This poem was written by Lyla June Johnston, a Diné activist, in 2015. It explores the meaning of “America” through a reflection of history. It can be found below and as a PDF.
“from birth we etch these lines
engrave them inside your mind
by the rockets red glare
the bombs bursting in the air
the war it begins
to make the imaginary country
as real as your skin.
America doesn’t exist
it’s an idea men have obsessed over since 1776.
an excuse we use to manifest a reality that
destroyed the destiny of Native civilization.
they always told me I was an American
and so I said to them,
“can you show me America?”
can you tell me where it is?
I’ve been looking for it all my life!
looking for the reason why my people had to die.
but the only place I can find America is inside of your mind.
they said, no don’t worry… just
stand up
put your hand right there on your heart
now turn just a little bit towards the flag.
there it is. Right there. Don’t you see it?
there you go.
okay ready?
Go
I pledge allegiance to an illusion
called the United States of America
and to the non-existent boundaries
for which it stands
one deception
under a Christian god
with which we legitimize the genocide
of its indigenous peoples
America doesn’t exist
but it is a psychological sickness we catch with years
of exposure to our public schools to baseball games
and once we believe that America is real we believe that we have a
reason to steal a reason to kill.
the Long Walk 1965
9,000 Navajo are marched with barrels at their backs
herded like sheep for over 400 miles
to their own special concentration camp.
in the name of America
Wounded Knee Massacre 1890
U.S. Calvary descend on a Lakota camp
with 530 women and children
and with “America” in their minds
and red and white stripes blinding their sight
they sunk bullets into the chests of children
that could have been their own
in the name of America
look on the twenty dollar bill my friends, see the man who
marched 15,000 Cherokee–
pregnant women, their children, the elderly–
marched from Georgia to Oklahoma
in the name of America.
do we remember what has been done in the name of an abstract nation
or has it all been buried along with our hearts and our tongues.
and I should not hate fireworks on warm summer nights
and I should not hate a combination of colors
and I should not hate dead men on paper money
and I should not hate.
so let me tell you that I love you
dear soldiers
dear president of the imaginary states of America
dear school teachers
dear man behind the curtain
let me tell you that I love you
and that I am leaving it in the past
let me tell you that I too am in love with my motherland
but know that this Earth is the foremother of your forefathers
she existed before Hancock and before Nixon
before money before America
and that she will exist long after America is forgotten.
raising hands to our hearts for a fairytale
that America is anything more than a word
we’ve drawn so many maps, we’ve put so many flags in the ground
we’ve labeled all the land
we’ve drawn imaginary lines all around the sand
but people hear me and separate your fact from fabrication
this is the projection of our imagination onto
the holy earth.
and today we unite to remember what is real
to remember that humanity is real
a beating heart is real
the earth beneath us is real
but America is a thought that
has turned us against ourselves
history into myth
entire cultures into forgotten languages
and the free mind into a society, deceived
so please do not call me an American
please do not even call me a Native American
please, I beg you, call me human
and do not call this land America
if you listen hard she will tell you her true name
as the nighthawks dive at twilight
as the wolves howl at midnight
as the waterfalls rage cascading
when the avalanches fracture breaking
she WILL tell us her true name with earthquakes
that split states and break fences to
remind us she does
not belong to us.
but that we belong to her.”